Plea of the Unbeliever
by roguehobbit
Summary: One-shot. Donya’s thoughts and actions after seeing Mullen, near the end of episode 23 "Castling Lucciola".


Plea of the Unbeliever

One shot.

Disclaimer: Last Exile does not belong to me, which everyone should be grateful for.

Spelling: Tried to keep it to the dubbed version, but may have slipped up.

Wow. A fic without even a mention of Dio. Someone take my temperature.

Thank you **Auramistealia** for beta reading this. :)

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Donya stumbled out of the Guild Unit's room. Barely able to keep herself upright, she used her rifle to support her.

He couldn't be dead...he couldn't be...

Her mind reeled at what she had seen: Mullen slumped over the Unit's controls, blood all over him, motionless.

She sat down on the floor, letting her gun slip unnoticed to her side, her arms gripping her legs in a tremendous attempt to stop shaking. But that action didn't stop her body from being racked with sobs.

He couldn't be dead. That thought kept repeating itself in her head, almost as rhythmically as her pounding heartbeat. It couldn't be this way. The gods were not that unfair...

At that, Donya curled up into a ball, ignoring what was left of the rational voice that was screaming about protecting herself. She didn't care if there were any Guild members left alive on the ship. If there were, as far as she cared they could kill her now, and put her out of her misery.

The majority of the Disith had long stopped praying to any deity. As the snow kept piling, and the death toll kept rising, it became apparent that no one was going to answer their pleas.

The gods had not yet faded into myth, as in Anatoray, but the few remaining faithful left in Disith were viewed as crack pots, religious zealots that ignored the obvious.

If there were gods left, they were no longer the benevolent beings that had created this world, but merely indifferent watchers.

In what was left of the Disith military, the gods were rarely mentioned without a curse attached.

Donya couldn't breath. She tried to calm herself down, raising her head up in an attempt to suck in air. Slowly she stopped gasping, the tears still raining down her face as she looked up at what was supposed to be the ceiling of the ship.

A deep gash had rent the mighty behemoth. Donya could see patches of sky, along with battling ships, their gun turrets in constant motion. With each loud boom, Donya imagined another death.

Death was all around her. With a feeling of detachment she glanced at the dead bodies strewn around the room. Death had been part of her, of all the Disith, for a long time.

Her mind counted up the dead coldly, her military training kicking in as she her tears slowed. That was seven in this hallway, but only four were allies. There were more bodies in the Unit's room, perhaps three Guilders, and...

Donya's features froze, as her mind tried desperately to move around that one thought, of that one body. Sanity battled with the need to express anguish. A mix of both won as Donya grasped her gun, using it to push herself off the floor. She watched the sky as more ships fired at each other, and more people died.

"Can't you stop this?" she shrieked at the sky, her eyes frantically searching for something, anything, to appeal to. She pointed an accusing finger at the sky, still holding onto the rifle with her other hand to support her. "You were supposed to care for us! You were these almighty beings! But now, what are you?"

Her screaming was tainted with mania, as she continued belittling the entities that her ancestors had once worshiped. "You're nothing! You can't stop the weather, you can't stop the Maestro, you can't stop these ships, you can't even stop one bullet-"

The butt of the gun somehow managed to get caught between her legs, and she fell, landing heavily on her side. All the rage fueled energy left her as her breathing slowed. "Not even one bullet..."

The silence in the ship was only broken by the booming far above, but growing duller. The ships were moving past their fallen comrade.

Donya lay still, listening to her own ragged breathing, before whispering "Please...do something...you can't just sit back and watch anymore...please..."

Nothing but the faint booming could be heard in reply. Donya pressed her face into the crook of her arm.

Clank. Donya stiffened, listening intently, her early thoughts about letting the enemy kill her forgotten.

"Donya?" a faint voice called, sounding scared.

Donya sat up, ignoring the pain from doing so. "Mullen?" Her voice had a questioning tone to it, she couldn't be sure she wasn't hallucinating. But hope wouldn't be conquered, and she stopped breathing in her yarning to hear him reply.

A figure lurched out of the doorway to the Unit, one hand clutching at his bloody chest. He would have fallen onto the floor if Donya had not managed to rise to her knees and catch him on his way down.

Donya clutched him to her, sobbing all over again, though this time for a new reason. "Thank you, thank, thank you..."

"Hey, what's with the tears?" Mullen grimaced; talking clearly pained him. "I told you I'd protect you, didn't I? I can't do that if I'm dead."

Donya wiped her eyes with one arm; the other was still busy still gripping Mullen, as if to make sure he didn't disappear. "Come on, we have to get you to a medic."

Mullen grunted, more from the pain of Donya trying to pull him up then in reply.

When she finally had him leaning against the wall, Donya noticed something shiny she had seen before going into the Unit's area. She reached down slowly and picked it up.

"It's your survival medals," she said, eyes tearing up again.

"Huh, I didn't realize they had fallen off," the musketeer said, glancing at his chest, but then wishing he hadn't.

Donya placed the twisted pieces of metal into her pocket before reaching up to take Mullen's shoulders so he could lean on her. As they trudged through the wreckage of the ship she said "We're going to keep those."

"'We're'?" Mullen asked, smiling at the plural, despite the pain.

"Yes. 'We're'." Donya replied.

As they climbed out of the broken ship, the sounds of the war were only a faint murmur in the distance.

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End.

Well. Donya was on quite the emotional roller coaster, wasn't she?

I don't know if you can say "Donya was out of character" about any fic, because she has so little screen time in the anime. But I think I kept her as close as possible. Or, lol, at least I tried. From what's in the anime we do see that she's very emotional, but if you think I took it too far tell me. :)

I've had this notion on doing something involving the LE gods for a while, (pretty much ever since they were mentioned in the underground auction where the gateway to Exile was supposed to be sold. I have this odd interest in polytheistic cultures) but in a fic involving Delphine, but this story idea beat that one. I might still do that one, but it will take awhile. Though other fic ideas might take president. :)

Thank you all, who reviewed my other LE fics. I'm glad people are enjoying reading them as much as I am writing them. Special thanks to **partisan** for her lovely review. It has to be the nicest, and longest review I've ever received. And it made my day. I hope this fic (though no Dio, alas) hasn't made you regret asking for more fics from me lol.

Okay, I should stop typing now. Review please. I swear they give me fuel for inspiration.


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